


Written on Her Hands

by aheadfulloffollies



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mostly Fluff, POV Catra (She-Ra), Soulmate AU, but also angst, fluff and some angst, idk man i really truly cannot tag, the heart of etheria, the heart part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfulloffollies/pseuds/aheadfulloffollies
Summary: Catra's POV through some of the final events of Heart Part II, set in a soulmate alternate universe.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Written on Her Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catraapplesauce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catraapplesauce/gifts).



> ren i am so sorry because i am SHIT at writing soulmate aus but i really hope you like this. <3333 I LOVE YOU MERRY CHRISTMAS

On Etheria, everyone had two  names magically inked on their wrists since birth.

On one, their soulmate. On the other, their worst enemy.

No one knew which was which. Not from just looking.

Catra and Adora had found each other easily.  _ Adora _ on Catra’s right wrist and  _ Catra _ on Adora’s left. The rest had come with time.

_ She-Ra _ was the name Catra had been left with in the wake of Adora’s leaving, that carved into her skin, irreversible and true. She couldn’t have done anything about it if she wanted to.

But what was she supposed to do, when her worst enemy and soulmate were one and the same?

It was a mess, as Catra had been for three years. And now, here they were.

What was she supposed to do?

Adora was not choosing her. She never had.  _ Destiny  _ was another wall to break down in her mind,  _ fate _ something to charge at headfirst and destroy herself, if she had to. She’d always been like that. Brave and bold and beautiful.

Catra wasn’t. Where Adora was strong, she was weak; where she was daring, Catra was clever instead.

But cleverness would bring her nothing right now. There was nothing to be figured out, no way to trick anyone out of this situation. There was only the harsh reality, stark against what could be, if only she were strong enough to  _ do something. _

Time moved in slow motion, Catra’s thoughts a million miles an hour. They did not have time.

Adora was fucking dying.

They would never have time again.

And suddenly she was angry, because these fucking names on her wrist had screwed her over from the beginning. Made her complicit and furious and  _ stupid _ , thinking of everything else as a fucking commodity if they would be alright in the end. But soulmates had no guarantee, so she should have known from the beginning.

What made a soulmate anyway? And what made an enemy? She stared at Adora in her arms, and was a different kind of furious as she dared to ask who had ever told her she might make the one person she loved more than life itself her enemy.

Who decided that? Who wrote those names on her skin?

Who made her believe them?

She-Ra was not her worst enemy, she thought furiously. That was herself- always destroying herself from the inside out, making herself into the worst Catra she could ever be.

Adora made her better. She-Ra made her better.

But what did it matter if one name on her wrist was fake? She refused to believe the other wasn’t true. After all they’d gained and all they’d lost, she would destroy the fucking world if it dared test them again.

“Adora!  _ Adora! _ ” she screamed, overcome with too many thoughts, too many emotions, overflowing into her voice, frantic and loud in this vast emptiness.

“Adora! Please, you have to wake up. You can’t give up. You have never given up on anything in your life,” she said, whispering now, tired and broken and real in the aftermath of her shout. “Not even on me. So don’t you  _ dare _ start now.”

“It’s too late,” Adora rasped, a broken voice matching the barely-there body in her arms, and she tightened her grasp, unwilling to let go. “I’ve failed.”

“No.  _ No. _ I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.” She shook her head, thoughts of soulmates and enemies and everything else leaving her mind because none of that fucking  _ mattered _ when Adora was  _ dying _ and she was  _ right there _ and she couldn’t save her. “Don’t you get it? I love you. I always have. So please, just this once…  _ stay _ . Stay,” she whispered, so quietly she didn’t even know if Adora heard her.

No, that wasn’t true.

She heard her. She always did.

Light sparked and everything began to shake, and Catra didn’t know what was happening but she did know it wasn’t good. She lowered her body closer, covering Adora’s. If only one of them was going to get out of this, it would be her. And if Adora died, Catra wouldn’t let her go alone.

And it was white-hot and it was death and it was not beautiful or gentle or quiet, but at least they were together.

There was some beauty in that.

When it stopped, Catra thought for a moment that they were dead.

But she wasn’t dead. She must have been dreaming, then, because there was She-Ra’s shield, over them, protecting them, in Adora’s hand.

But it wasn’t a dream, because suddenly Adora was awake again and sitting and her hand was on Catra’s back and it was too much all at once to be anything but real.

“You love me?”

And she  _ laughed, _ because after all that had happened, was that even a question? “You’re such an idiot.” But the look on Adora’s face stopped her short, because she could have sworn there was some of her own adoration reflected back in her eyes.

“I love you too,” she said, and Catra felt her heart fucking explode, and this must have been a dream after all, but she never wanted to wake up.

Catra leaned in, holding Adora close, and their lips touched and nothing had ever felt  _ more. _

She was sure there were things happening around them, that something must have happened with the Heart of Etheria, but who cared? So what if the world was ending or mending itself back together? It had never loved Catra.

But Adora did.

_ Adora loved her. _

They finally broke apart, and Catra’s mind played Adora on repeat. Her friend, her soulmate.

“I just realized something,” she whispered.

Adora touched their foreheads together, grinning like a fool. “What?”

“We aren’t soulmates because of the tattoos.”

“Mhm?”

“We’re soulmates because we chose each other.”

And Adora had the  _ audacity  _ to laugh. “Obviously, Catra.”

“Oh, shut up!” Catra shoved her in the shoulder, grinning despite herself. “How was I supposed to know that until now?”

“I don’t know, maybe the same way I was supposed to know the Horde was corrupt before I saw for myself?!” Adora shook her head incredulously, the laughter dying from her lips at the mention of the Horde.

“You have to go save the world now, don’t you,” Catra whispered.

“Yeah.” Adora looked tired, she realized.

“Okay,” she said. “Finish this. And then rest.”

“Together?”

“Obviously,” she said with a soft laugh. “Dummy.”

“Good.” Adora got to her feet, pulling Catra up with her. Catra saw the second name on Adora’s wrist, a prudent reminder of everything she had to do.  _ Horde Prime. _ “Come on. Let’s go kick some ass.”


End file.
